


Tescos

by justbygrace



Series: Pete's World [12]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt Fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tescos

He saw her standing there, all pink and yellow, and it was like nothing had changed at all; but had it changed for her? He was usually so quick to run into danger, but this once he held himself back, determined to see how things would play out before he approached. 

She was standing in the middle of Tescos, inspecting the ingredients on a box of cereal, and the Doctor was quite sure he had never seen her look more lovely. He watched as she bit her lip before decisively setting it into her basket and moving further down the aisle. She was almost to the end, almost out of his sight, when she froze, turning back around, her eyes finding his magnetically. For a moment he hardly dared to breathe, determined to allow her the first move. 

Time seemed to suspend as Rose slowly made her way towards him, something in her eyes that pinned him in place, almost dared him to move away from her, away from this. As soon as she was close enough she stretched out one hand, pressing it to the left side of his chest and then the right. When she was apparently satisfied with his identity, she met his eyes with every bit of defiance and determination that had drawn him to her ever so long ago in a basement in a far away world.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she placed her index finger on his lips, effectively silencing him and for the first time in years, he caught a whiff of strawberries and vanilla and something that was so indelibly Rose and he felt his hearts stumble and stutter. For a long moment neither of them moved, locked in a staring contest that seemed to transport them to where planets spun and the stars shone, the earth tilting impossibly sideways. The urge to run was screaming through his veins, pounding a staccato beat in his mind, but he dared not listen. This girl, this woman, this impossible creature who had once crossed dimensions for him could cause him to stay still where so many others had failed.

How long they stood there, he was never sure, entire suns could have died and been reborn and he would not have known. She broke eye contact first, he was not sure if he was even able to move and then she was wrapping her arms around him, her lips pressed to his, and for the first time in millennia, Rose Tyler was kissing him and the Doctor did not care that they were standing in the middle of a grocery store, did not care that there were people watching. He had forgotten what it was like to lose himself in her essence, her fingers running through his hair, and his arms pulling her close, close, impossibly closer and then his arms were suddenly empty. 

The Doctor staggered back, drunk on the taste, the smell of her, the feel of her and every nerve-ending was screaming at him to reach out and gather her back to him, to forget the things he had done, the people he had destroyed, to bury himself so far into her that it would be impossible to tell where he ended and she began. He opened his mouth to protest her absence, to beg her return, but her expression did not invite comment and he let his jaw snap shut. She stayed where she was, too far away to touch, always too damn far away to touch, and he clenched his fists, the urge to anger so very strong with this body. 

It was she who stayed the course, she who had once taken his hand and promised to run, who had vowed forever, who had asked him for chips, who had kissed him and loved him and forgave him time and time and time again. With a single step she was once more right there, right in his space, close enough to touch and taste, but he forced his hands to stay where they were, holding his ground even as her hands smoothed his jacket, straightened his bowtie, before she slowly raised her left hand to his face, tracing her fingers over his lips. He felt the cold metal before he became aware of what it meant and when it finally registered, he felt his respiratory bypass momentarily give out, timelines and possibilities and realities crashing through his mind. He stumbled back a few steps, eyes darting between the band on her hand (it was silver and etched with circular symbols he could almost decipher even from this distance and he despised himself for his observation skills) and her eyes, oh her eyes, regretful and gentle and forgiving and so very, very loving. 

With measured footsteps she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his chastely, reverently. It was thank you and goodbye and I love you and he couldn't hate her, couldn't even hate himself. When she stepped back, there were tears in her eyes that did not fall when she spoke. "Thank you for everything. We're happy, I promise. I love you." She took another step back. "Never forget, I love you." Then with all the grace and confidence that he had always admired, loved, respected, she turned and walked away.


End file.
